


Wake When You Sleep

by AWalkingParadox



Series: Silent Scream [2]
Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Gen, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12879969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWalkingParadox/pseuds/AWalkingParadox
Summary: Nightmares and stuff ensue





	Wake When You Sleep

•—•  
Thomas didn’t dream. At least, not often. But these weren’t dreams, they were nightmares.  
A deafening scream ripped through the air as Thomas ran for his life. A dark shape loomed over him, sharp claws and grinning fangs.  
He stumbles, falling, and looks up just in time for the beast to bring down his arm.  
He opens his eyes and looks around. Thomas was in the living room, in their house. He looks at the clock. It’s 5:00 pm, about the time when Thomas’s mother would run of to the room to protect his younger sister, and his father would be staggering home, reeking of alcohol.  
He loomed, fists raised.  
Thomas screamed.  
And he kept screaming as his eyes flew open. But this was a silent scream. This was a scream of memories seared into the mind, memories that will haunt you till your last breath, memories too painful to bear alone.  
In the dark, he is trapped between memories. He scrambles back, falling of the bed with a thud, searing pain flowing through his body, but he doesn’t stop.   
The door opens, and light streams in. Thomas staggers, back against the wall.   
“Jefferson? Hey, hey! Jefferson, calm down!” Hands grip his arms, sending him into blind panic.   
“Breathe! Breathe.” It pinned him down, kicking and screaming.  
“Jeff—Thomas! Listen! It’s Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe here.”   
He shook, but stopped fighting.  
“Good. Name five things you see?” Hamilton said gently.  
“Y-you, door, b-bed, light, window.”  
“You’re doing good. Four things you can touch?”  
“Your h-hands. The floor. My clothes. My hair.” Thomas’s shaking settled to trembling.  
“Three things you can hear?”   
“Your voice. My voice. Television downstairs.” The stuttering steadied.  
“Doing great, stay calm. Two things you can smell?”  
“Lavender Shampoo. Burnt cookies.”  
“Right.” Hamilton self-consciously touched his hair. “One thing you can taste?”   
“Blood.” He answers, mouth dry. He had bitten his lip.  
“Better?” Hamilton asks.  
“Okay.” He answered. Hamilton stood up, opening the curtains and letting the sun stream in. He holds out a hand.  
“Hungry?”  
Thomas shook his head, smiling weakly. “I am thirsty.” He said hoarsely, taking the offered hand.   
Hamilton walked by his side as they descended down the stairs, Thomas gripping on the railing for support.  
He enters the kitchen, a man in an apron....making grilled cheese sandwiches?  
“Mr. Jefferson! Glad to see you’re awake.” Washington smiled gently. “Those were some pretty serious injuries you had.”  
“Right.” Thomas rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “Thanks for letting me stay here, Mr. Washington. And please call me Thomas. ‘Mr. Jefferson’ is not a name I’m fond of.”  
“Of course, Thomas.” Washington’s eyes softened.  
“Where’s my mom?” Thomas frowned.  
“At Lafayette’s house.” Alex chirped.  
“And James?”   
“Also At Lafayette’s house, trying to calm your mother. She also brought with her a child? We assumed it was your sister. We brought James along cause your mother seemed to recognise him.”  
“Right.” Thomas didn’t have the energy to question them as to how they snuck his mother and a little child from his home. “Er—do you mind if I ask where may I find something to drink?”  
“All you need is to ask.” Washington said gently, shutting of the stove and sliding the sandwiches onto plates. He then pours Thomas a glass of water.  
“Thank you.” He said gratefully.   
“Make yourself at home.” Washington nodded, eyes flickering to Hamilton for just a moment.  
“Alexander, I need to speak with you.”  
“Sure thing.” Hamilton said sombrely, hopping of(yes, his toes didn’t even reach the floor) the chair. They headed to the living room, talking in hushed whispers.  
Thomas felt scared for what’s to come.  
-•-  
“What happened?” Washington whispered, eyes darting to the kitchen.  
“He’s being abused.” Alexander’s answers.  
“By who?” Washington asked, pale.  
“His father.” Alexander said, locking eyes with his guardian. “We have to help him.”  
“He can stay here as long as he wants. We have to do something about his father. That man has no right to be called his father.” Washington growled, and Alexander is immediately reminded of why he used to be terrified of this man.  
“He’s a monster.” Alexander nodded. “He needs to be locked up.”  
“I’ll do my best.” Washington said grimly. He then touched Alexander’s shoulder. “This. You helping Thomas. Does it have something to do with your past?”  
“Maybe. I know what’s it like. You saw what I was like when I first came here. I still can’t forget. I still have nightmares.” He laughed dryly. “I want him to know there’s always a way out.”  
Washington smiled. “There always is. We just have to help him find it.”  
-•-  
“I felt better when I woke up than I had yesterday.” Thomas said, staring at Washington, fear creeping into his voice. “You didn’t take me to a hospital, did you?”   
“No.” Washington shook his head. “Alexander was very implicit in the fact that you didn’t want to be examined or treated by strangers.”  
“So...then....?”  
“I treated you.” Washington answered simply. “I used to be a doctor before quit and became a teacher.”  
“You used to be a doctor?” Thomas stared in awe at his teacher.   
“Yes. Good thing I still remember most of what I studied.” Washington cracked a smile. “Or else you would have been in serious trouble.”  
Thomas grinned weakly.  
-•-  
Two days passed, slowly.  
-•-  
“Jefferson.” Hamilton approached him, words measured and careful.  
“Yes?” Thomas said, a questioning look in his eyes.  
“There’s someone here to see you.” He choked out, clenching his fists.  
“Who?” Fear was back. Full force.  
“Your father.”  
•—•

**Author's Note:**

> It was originally containing something related to um......more graphic stuff, but then I decided that was to graphic/Not appropriate so...yeah.


End file.
